


The Sun Also Sets

by Hiisilija



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, One-Sided Attraction, Permanent Injury, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-04-01 11:11:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13997043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiisilija/pseuds/Hiisilija





	1. Impotence  Part I

Takashi Shirogane was an interesting man. He was Japanese and from Japan, only moving to America in his late teens. It was there that the man joined the Galaxy Garrison and went off to fight in the war.

It was then that Lance pulled him out of a burning wreckage, his arm shredded and his face bleeding... His torso burnt and black. Lance volunteered his services as a nurse to aid his recovery.

Shiro was kind.

In fact, he was kind in a way Lance couldn't understand. Meanwhile, Keith was fire and passion. Everything about Keith burned fast and bright, every word, every kiss, and every touch. 

While loving Keith was like a volcanic eruption---hot lava spewing everywhere, firing so fast Lance felt light headed and dizzy; falling into Keith's arms before he could catch his breath---Shiro was genlte. 

It was somewhat humerous, in a way. Lance blushed and let Shiro flirt with him because... What could Shiro do? How did Shiro, this big and gentle beast, think he could snuff out the flames Keith lit inside Lance? 

So Lance tended to Shiro and went home to Keith---where he would be held and loved in a way Shiro couldn't.

Though, that wasn't why Lance chose Keith. Lance didn't feel he _had_ to choose... Shiro was never an option. When Lance thought of his own story, he was all Keith's. Always and forever. 

But when Lance told himself Shiro's story, out of kindness, Lance entertained the idea that Shiro stood a chance. Lance knew... And Shiro knew... That they would never be together, yet Shiro tried and Lance refused. 

You see, they had a secret together. Shiro knew _everything_. Lance told him everything and found his protection. Shiro would never--- _could_ never hurt him. 

Lance smiled, staring at the entrance to the bar. He was all bundled up, prepared for the air conditoning to be cranked way up on this warm night---his legs in skinny, warm, black pants and his torso in an equally tight blue shirt. 

Of Lance's two colors, red was for Keith and blue was for Lance. Tonight, Lance was here for Lance. 

Lance walked in, sandwiched between beefy arms and conveniently loose shirts. Lance glared at the room, daring anyone to approach him in this crowd. Lance had located Shiro at the bar when he realized he was sitting by a Galra.

A real Galra---like Keith---only, his skin was purple. Lance smiled warmly, thinking of Keith's deep indigo eyes. 

The Galra bit his lip---his fangs protruding as he did. Lance let his mouth hang open, walking to the bar. 

Shiro stood up, walking over to Lance before he could get there. Lance smiled. "Hello, Love."

Shiro's face tightened. "Lance. What are you doing here?"

Lance smiled. "Well, you spoke about it so much in the hospital---"

"When?" Shiro asked calmly, his voice impossibly gentle and low. "When I was in the hospital or when _you_ were in the hospital?"

Lance smiled, just ignoring Shiro's words. It was harder for him to flirt when he brought up things so unpleasant. 

"Buy me a drink?" Lance smiled. 

"Of course. Your fourth or fifth?" Shiro responded calmly---not out of accusation or judgement---but out of concern. 

"Oh, bless your heart," Lance smirked. "But don't worry, I plan to be very, very drunk before the night is over."

Shiro grimaced. "And who will be taking you back?"

Lance noted Shiro's abilty to call Lance and Keith's house 'that place' or 'there', and never 'home'. 

"It's okay, I can drink around these guys. They're no problem," Lance assured him. 

Shiro glance over one more time, eyeing the group Lance had been spending his time with lately. "No kidding. May I ask? Why have you surrounded yourself with the straightest, whitest entourage after becoming engaged to Keith?"

Lance frowned at him. He quickly made the expression look more childlike and pouty than upset. Shiro's eyes softened as he did, the man always noticed things like that. 

"Save it, love," Lance taunted. "We'll have our talk... _After_ that friend of yours develops the courage to talk to me."

Shiro looked over his shoulder at Lotor. "Not him, we're acquaintances at best, maybe you could---" 

"Really?" Lance laughed. "I'm no fool Shiro, there aren't that many Galra on earth, espessially that _you_ know."

"Lance," Shiro pleaded. 

"You're just jealous." 

"Yes, you wrap my friends around your finger because it makes you feel better," Shiro whispered. "Me too. I can't listen to them pine over you in front of me anymore like I'm not---like you're _nothing_ to me. And Lotor..." Shiro tried to think of the words. "He's old fashioned... You know, _Galra_." 

"So he'll treat me well? Court me?"

Shiro shook his head, his disappointment towards Lance's immaturity more apparant than any form of surprise. "No, he won't. Not someone's husband." 

" _Fiance_ ," Lance reminded him. "Now introduce me."

"Please do so, Shiro," Lotor said, having finally approached the two of them. Lance watched as Shiro went pale. 

"Lotor, I believe?" Lance asked, batting his eyelashes. 

"You believe correct," Lotor said, a hungry look on his face.

Lance was able to understand that hungry look much more intamately soon after he placed his third drink at the bar on Shiro's tab. He was very good at holding Galra alcohol (thanks, Keith) and Lotor was very impressed.

So impressed, that Lotor seductively offered him a drink of the Galra race's special drink---an aphrodisiac prohibited on Earth at its full strength. Not that Keith ever let that stop him. 

Lance took it. He'd drained an entire glass of that very same liquid at an eighty percent concentration before. What was this? Eight? Twelve?

Lotor brought Lance out onto the dance floor, his intense eyes watching for Lance's inevitable breakdown. It didn't come. Lance had full control. As he and Lotor danced, Shiro vanishing from sight, he discoverd Lotor's miraculous use of his hips. They were all but having sex as they danced on that floor, Lotor being sure to brush up against Lance at all the right times, pulling away quickly. Lance turned around, rubbing his backside against him, surprising the Galra.

They went on for quite a long time. Lotor bought Lance several drinks (that they weren't going to tell Shiro about) and Lance laughed and drank and danced. It was so easy, making people want him. 

Lance was the king of desire. He thought about Shiro, who wanted him despite knowing he can never have him---in every way possible. Lance thought about every boy and girl who'd wanted him and sighed.

That was good. That meant he had options. That meant he was worth something.

That's why he never let Lotor see his clothed neck. Make them want, never give. 

Lotor laughed and smirked all night long... Then he frowned. "That ring on your finger... If I remember the earth custom correctly---and I highly doubt I do, as you have been with me all night---you are not taken?"

Lance held up his hand. "What? This thing? Sounds like you remember very well. It ensures only the special few hit on me in bars."

Lotor stepped back, a hurt expression on his face. "You---You have a mate?

Lotor stood back, resigning his hands at his sides, no longer toughing Lance. He didn't grope and pry and beg like all the others did---promising it would be just one night, no strings attatched.

But Lotor restrained himself, anger palpable on his face. "Special few? What? The bad ones? The ones who want to take someone else's love?"

Lance smiled, kissing Lotor's shoulder as he couldn't reach his cheek. It was time for him to go talk to Shiro.

"No... The ones _I_ want," Lance mourned, feeling Lotor angry, horny, and stiff beside him. 

Lance left Lotor there, feeling high on his success. Lotor had wanted him so bad... 

Lance caught Shiro's eye and told him it was time with a look. Shiro's shoulders slumped and he walked Lance out. Lance laced his arm around Shiro's---his real one---and relished in the older man's strength. 

Shiro called them a cab and they climbed in together. 

They rode in silence. 

Then, without speaking, Shiro guided Lance closer to him, placing his hands on his neck outside his black scarf. 

Lance flinched, the soreness bugging him, but he let Shiro touch him.  Because everyone wanted to---but only Shiro actually couldn't. 

"The honeymoon is over, then?" Shiro asked. 

Lance closed his eyes, smiling. "That comes after the wedding, Love."

"Why do you call me _love_?" Shiro asked, always straight to the point. "Do you have to rub it in?"

"You don't love me, Shiro," Lance reminded him. 

"Why? Because of my accident? I can't feel because I can't fuck?"

Lance opened his eyes. Shiro was doing that thing he always did. The thing where he wanted to yell at Lance, but took a few breaths instead. Lance loved that. 

Lance leaned over, cupping Shiro's crotch---knowing it would do absolutely nothing. "You want to want me, but you can't."

Shiro moved his hand away. "Who taught you that? Keith?"

Lance rolled his eyes. Shiro took the scarf off his neck, revealing the thumb-shaped bruised on Lance's neck. He cursed under his breath when he saw them. 

"So, the honeymoon is over, then," Shiro whispered softly. 

"Afraid so," Lance smiled. 

Shiro looked back at him, no doubt remembering the time after his injury, when Lance had been a nurse, tending to the recovery of his face, flesh, and shoulder muscles after losing his arm. 

Shiro claimed he fell in love with Lance then, but Lance didn't believe it.

Shiro clenched his jaw. "You make everyone want you... You want to be desired. Is that why you are safe with me? Because I can't have sex with you?"

Lance didn't respond. 

"You have no idea, Lance. You don't know what I want to do to you---what I _can_ do to you. I'd make you fall apart with my fingers and tongue and you wouldn't feel any pain. Not a lick of it."

Lance laughed. He laughed so hard he started to cry. Sorrowful tears glided down in face. He was so tired. 

"There is no joy without sorrow. There is no feeling, without numbness," Lance patted the flask in his jacket pocket, untouched so far. "And there is no pleasure without pain." 

Shiro swallowed. "Spend one night with me and I will prove you wrong."

"Sorry, Love," Lance sighed. "Never. But your level of confidence is baffling."

Shiro clenched his jaw. "I can be very confident in my abilities when I'm with someone who expects pain."

Lance frowned. This was the part in their conversation where they always went separate ways...

It always started with one question, one refusal, then complete silence. 

"Do you love me?" Shiro asked. 

"No," Lance whispered, answering as he always did. 

Shiro leaned in, not away, as he always did before. "Fall in love with me."

Lance paused, shocked by the sudden break in their pattern. "What?"

"Lance, I can make you fall in love with me. You'll see. You'll see what love is like. It's kind and gentle. It's forgiving. You may think I can't love you, but that is not _you_ \---it's Keith. I can take everything he taught you away."

Lance leaned in, just a little bit more, pressing their heads together. Lance was tired of this disucussion. He wanted to go home and sleep. "Can you do what you always do before you leave?"

Shiro closed his eyes, wiping his tears from them, then doing the same to Lance's. "I'm afraid for you, Lance."

Lance gasped, Shiro's hand brushing a bruise. He needed to go home. "Do it. Now."

Shiro kissed him. As usual---Lance felt nothing. 

No fear. No hate. No worry. No passion. No warmth. No love. 

But it was kind and slow and Lance sometimes thought Shiro really meant something by it. 

Lance watched Shiro get out of the cab. Then he put his scarf back on and gave the driver directions home. 

And all he could think about was how miserable his life was.


	2. Impotence Part II

Lance sat quietly on his stool, three mirrors giving him a perfect view of his front from every angle. From what Lance could tell, he was hopeless.

Up until the engagement, Lance had finally been putting on weight, eating expensive deserts and thick, juicy steaks at luxurious five star hotels. His body had been dressed constantly in loose, red silk covers woven from Altean worms.

They were a delicacy unlike any other in the world. The recent Altean war had a strict ban on all trades with the estranged Planet. After the Altean/Galra war, the Galra began seeking habitation on other planets because their own had been destroyed. The Alteans... They began their plan to establish universal domesticity.

Keith had fought for the Blade of Marmora in the Galra/Altean war, coming out a bankrupt drunk prone to fights (more so than usual). Lance endured those fits of violence, but then the Guns of Gamora rose to prevent Altean oppression, Keith preferred a more... Laid back approach.

Keith was paid by the Guns of Gamora to teach them Blade skills. He took that money and multiplied it, sweeping Lance off his feet with his luxurious life.

Keith never explained the intricacies of his operations, but when Lance found himself a receiver of the most expensive and rare items in the world, Altean clothes, food, and other delicacies, Lance began to suspect---living his rich life nonetheless.

Lance thought his new life with Keith would make him happier, healthier, and stronger. But now, his body seemed to be adapting to the new lifestyle, because it was dropping weight again.

As Lance surveyed his battle scars from the previous night, he began to form a plan in his head. First, Lance left his mirror, stepping into a lukewarm shower with the water pressure as low as was comfortable. Lance washed every inch of sweat off his body, shaving himself entirely from the neck down.

Lance stepped out, padding himself dry with what was possibly the softest towel on the planet. Lance sighed, hitting the basics. He pulled on some dark red boyshorts for Keith later.

Lance surveyed the rest of his delicate items, turning down the pieces that made Keith the most passionate. Lance settled for a white top part of feminine wear that brought out the dark gold shades in his skin. The contrast always made Keith more appreciative of Lance and his body---almost afraid to bruise or mar his perfect complexion. 

Lance groaned out loud. If his complexion wasn't perfect, Keith wouldn't worship him that way he did. Lance peeled off his clothes one last time, staring at purpled reflection his the mirror. 

Lance knew his human body could only take a certain amount of Galra healing salve, so he had to pick and chose where to use it. Lance always used in on his face, neck, and sometimes his legs, arms, or stomach depending on how slutty he felt. 

Lance definitely needed to go back to stripping. He loved showing off his unhurt, untouched skin. He loved demonstrating his flexibility on the pole or the ring---rough, callused, and eager hands reaching out for his flesh. 

Each exclamation of his form  and movements not an insult or vile comment, but proof of his effect on them. 

By the end of the day, their words had no effect on him---they didn't matter. They all wanted him, but only Lance's soldier could have him. His pretty Galra soldier fighting against his own people. 

Lance didn't remember why he left stripping. Something about Keith's words whispered into Lance's ear made the other men's comments seem gross and unwelcome. 

keith went off to fight in the war and Lance pursued his health education. The war ended and Keith drank. Keith drank and Lance learned how to heal himself. Keith drank and Lance supported them by working in physical therapy for war veterans. 

A new war started and Keith got rich. Keith got rich and Lance volunteered for the war effort. Keith got rich and worked while Lance met Shiro---the gentle one who needed Lance's help to fix his arm, facial expressions, and hopefully his midsection. Despite Lance's access to Altean goods combined with his dancing experience---dressed up in some old nurses uniform that _had_ to be from the dark ages---he was unable to restore feeling to Shiro's genitals. 

Shiro went back to the war with a new arm as a part of some genius' plan to end the war through 'inter-dimensional travel' or some crap like that. It was Keith's funding that allowed the project to be successful---making him a war hero and the richest Galra on Earth. 

Besides the Prince, or course, but Lance didn't believe that he was actually on the planet. That was all end-of-war propaganda from the first great empire war...

Lance sighed, thinking about his night with the mysterious Lotor. Somehow, Keith knew. Keith didn't know, not really, but his behavior the previous night was a new combination. Keith had never before been both angry and possessive. When other men wanted Lance---Keith got horny and perfectly rough. 

But angry... No. Lance had to end this. 

Lance applied Galra scents to his body, just enough for it to be noticable, adding more so it was less subtle and more slutty. Keith's human side wasn't good at coping with his Galra side. Lance applied scents and lubricant to his more intimate parts, hoping to overwhelm Keith into letting Lance take control. 

Lance put the lingerie back on and decided he'd have to use the healing salve on his chest and stomach. He could cover his face with makeup. 

Lance pulled on dark blue skinny jeans and applied the salve. Lance covered his face and neck in makeup, then threw a black wool coat on over his lingerie---nothing else. Lastly, Lance wrapped a red scarf around his neck, covering it completely. 

Lance noticed Keith left his gloves behind... Lance didn't know what that meant. For some unknown reason, Lance put them on. 

Lance grabbed some boots and walked out the door. Holy Space, Lance had spent the entire morning drinking and laying around. It was almost nighttime. 

Lance was almost out the door when someone, Keith's old boss Kolivan, stopped him at the door. 

"No," Kolivan snapped. 

Lance swallowed, throwing in a sultry smile. "Kolivan, baby, what---"

"Don't," Kolivan sighed. "I don't understand you, Lance, but no Blade would dream of taking the mate of another."

Lance rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Popular opinion. Met a Galra last night with a similar thought process."

Kolivan put his arm down, blocking the doorway with his entire body. 

"Did Keith recruit you?" Lance worried. "Am I supposed to stay in?" 

Kolivan's eyes softened. "Am I the type you'd expect to join Keith's security detail?" 

"He pays a lot," Was Lance's only response.

"Enough to break the law?" Kolivan asked. 

Lance frowned. "No... What?"

Kolivan growled. "Why is Keith's security team keeping his mate indoors? Isn't that illegal on Earth?"

Lance smiled again, thrusting his hip to the side. "On Earth. Isn't it normal for a Galra to want his mate inside? Safe?"

Kolivan shrugged it off. "Yes, which is exactly my point. You will not go out smelling like that."

"I thought Galra didn't steal mates." 

"No," Kolivan stressed. "But if human customs weren't known... And if a human were to walk down the street reeking of sex, understanding certain Galra's affinities for... A human's smaller stature---"

Lance laughed. "Sorry, baby. But Keith is taking me to Spain, I'd like to straighten some personal things out first."

Kolivan looked up the stairs, checking the room. "Let me take you."

"I don't think that's such a good---"

"Lance, even the Galra sometimes confuse their anger with their mates." Kolivan stretched his hand out. 

Lance smiled. "But that's it: confusion." 

Lance grabbed his hand and linked his arm through Kolivan's shocking the Galra. Still, Kolivan escorted Lance to his car, snarling at one of Keith's guards who was leaning in slowly. 

Lance flashed a look at the guard, getting shoved into the car by Kolivan.  

"No, Lance. Not when you smell like that," Kolivan advised. 

Lance spread his legs, trusting his hips faintly to Kolivan. 

"Stop it!" Kolivan snapped. "Please, Keith is my soldier. He is an honorable fighter---"

Lance laughed. "Fancy limo." 

"Lance---"

"Does it have Champaign?"

Kolivan stopped trying to speak, bringing out a bottle and pouring glass a glass. Then two. Then three. 

When Kolivan asked, Lance said that human alcohol was nothing. Besides, he hadn't had that much to drink that morning anyway. 

Then he continued to drink, closing the bottle and grabbing two glasses once they stopped outside the hotel Shiro was staying in.


	3. For now

I started writing these stories as a guilty-pleasure/coping mechanism for myself on account of my past circustances. This one in particular is striking a really painful cord for me.

I know I technically dropped it a long time ago, but I'm officially taking a 'break' from this one for a long while. I'm sorry if you were one of the few who found this interesting; I was really proud of it.

When I do finish this one, it'll be all at once so you don't have to wait for me. Watch for the notification or don't. I'm sorry I let you down.

 


End file.
